”well, ted,” said the weatherman, ”i dont know about that, but
its not ohat have been ag oddly today. viewers
as far apart as kent, yorkshire, and dundee have been phoning in to
tell me that ihe rain i promised yesterday, theyve had
a downpour of shooting stars! perhaps people have beeing
bht early -- its not u week, folks! but i
promise a wet night tonight.”
mr. dursley sat frozen in his armchair. shooting stars all over
britain? owls flying by daylight? mysterious people in cloaks all
over the plad a er about the potters...
mrs. dursley to the living r two cups of
tea. it was no good. hed have to say something to her. he cleared
his throat nervously. ”er -- petunia, dear -- you havent heard
from your sister lately, have you?”
as he had expected, mrs. dursley looked shod angry. after
all, they normally pretended she didnt have a sister.
”no,” she said sharply. ”why?”
”funny stuff on the news,” mr. dursley mumbled. ”owls... shooting
stars... and there were a lot of funny-lookiown
today...”
”so?” snapped mrs. dursley.
”well, i just thought... maybe... it was something to do
with... you know... her crowd.”
mrs. dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. mr. dursley
woher he dared tell her hed heard the er.” he
decided he didnt dare. instead he said, as casually as he could,
”their son -- hed be about dudleys age now, wouldnt he?”
”i suppose so,” said mrs. dursley stiffly.
”whats his name again? howard, isnt it?”
”harry. nasty, e, if you ask me.”
”oh, yes,” said mr. dursley, his heart sinking horribly. ”yes,
i quite agree.”
he didnt say another word o as they went upstairs
to bed. while mrs. dursley was ihroom, mr. dursley crept
to the bedroom eered dow garden. the
cat was still there. it was staring dow drive as though it